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PARTING TIMES.

PARTING TIMES.

These times wont break me
Or give in to a compromise
Yet always so far
These parting times wont break me.

Name of the game is hope
Founded upon hopelessness
Lying in the undergrowth
Waiting for its fatal hour.

Thus becomes second nature
The will to breath the air
Though full of bodies
All alien to the finest scribes.

Down by the shore, is longing
A hope born in new found light
When the clouds part
This must be the parting time.

Clear as the ray, it is seen
Grab, not reject, the decoction
Take it by the hand
And lead the path, not follow
Where were the parting times.

Let me show a face in disguise
And I can see the tear, the pierrots eyes laughing at me
But what do all the necromancers see
Serenading their mistress
On balconies built by conflagration
These are the parting times.

So sees the piper
Tuneful as the nightingales melody
Ha! hides the image within its clothes.

Not for the first time
Nor for the last be assured
Has the reflection been manipulated
Think what was the moral of this song.

GRUM

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